


Greed

by cadkitten



Category: Dir en grey, the GazettE
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Rape, Suicide, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-19
Updated: 2009-03-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 22:10:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The consequence of greed is sometimes worse than death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Greed

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt[s]: 022: Greed for **50stories**  
>  Comments: Note that how I work the legalities of this would never work. But it's AU, so bite me.  
> Beta Readers: kawaiikyo, elyachan  
> Song[s]: "Cry Me a River" by Justin Timberlake

Some would say perhaps I wanted too much and that is why I am left with this result. Others would tell me I simply didn't try hard enough. In truth, I neither tried nor cared. I just wanted what I wanted to have and pulled all the strings to get it. The cold, hard truth of a businessman at his height.

Even as I sit here in my office, reflecting on my actions, I still can't bring myself to feel bad about it. I just got what I deserved... like I always do. My pen moves across the papers, filling out more paperwork to right things in the office area. A contact with a glass company to replace the panel that broke out of my left wing, another with a carpeting company to put new plush peach carpet in since the grey in here has been stained with crimson. That's all this is to me... paperwork.

I suppose by now it is news all over the office... maybe all over the world. Big name executive gets let off case in which he's accused of rape and murder. Yeah, that's me. My name is Akira Suzuki, better known as Reita by those that surround me. Of course, the ranks of those that are in my possession have dwindled in the past few days. Only those with enough sense of self-preservation have remained at my side... or those with enough greed to know why I did what I did. The others will pay... but that's not the point.

So, let's go back in time a bit. Let me say my part before you judge which side of the line you're on. Greedy enough to understand my actions or foolish enough to think you could walk away from me and live? We'll see....

Two months and a day ago, I acquired a new secretary. Tall, brilliant red hair, smashing good looks. He was a real piece of ass on legs. And timid. God was he timid. That sold me real fast on him. He acted so incredibly submissive for me, never looking into my eyes, never declining anything that I told him to do. I could have told him to come hold my dick while I pissed and he would have done it without complaint or question.

I called him Die. It wasn't his real name, of course... and I hardly remember what that was. Daisuke something or other. It doesn't matter. He had this incredible skin, pale and smooth as silk. I think he put on lotion at least twice a day to keep it that way.

At first, I was happy with him doing what he was already doing. He would write my reports, take my dictations even when they were raunchy excerpts of my sex-crazed escapades, get my coffee just the way I wanted it from a place all the way across town. He did everything and did it like a fucking champ. He played my game and I let him simply because he played it so well.

I guess at some point, he just got too comfortable with me or something, because he let his guard down. It was late that first night, a little past nine and the rest of the building had already gone home. I sat in my office, finishing up my monthly column for a business magazine and he sat just outside my door at his desk, just on the other side of the plate glass.

He was beautiful, picture-perfect. It was impossible for me to watch him in that classy suit of his for very long without my pants starting to get tight. See, I've always leaned in the direction of beautiful things. Male, female, transvestite.... I don't care. As long as they look like a fucking model, I want them in my pants. The thing with Die was that I couldn't get in his. The fucking agency that had sent him had provided me with his pre-signed contract, which included no 'fraternizing' in the workplace. I guess that would be his rule and not mine though.

In any case, as I stared at him, I realized all I had to do was tell him there was an update to his contract and please sign it again. A little lie to get what I wanted. Freedom to get into his tight little pants and my cock shoved in that pert little ass. Even the thought gave me a hard-on I could barely resist touching as I dug around and found his stupid contract.

An hour later, I had an entirely new one printed up, the fraternizing bit taken out and a new bit about how he had to do anything I asked of him, no matter what it was, added into it. He'd never notice. Hard to find a few lines in twenty pages of six point font, for sure. I had changed one little bit about his pay, upping it just a tiny bit - nothing significant in the long run, but enough to get him to notice it. That was what I would tell him had changed.

I slipped from my office, my cock still straining in my slacks, and plopped the papers on his desk, standing in front of him with an irritated look on my face, telling him about the change and that he needed to sign the new contract to approve it.

I'll never forget how he smiled at me, thanking me for a pay raise and then quickly signing his life away. He trusted me, the fool. I took the contract and went back in my office, faxing the entire thing to the agency with the cover letter I made explaining the pay raise and slightly changed wording in some areas. My ass was covered and it felt good.

Five minutes later, I was sitting behind my desk, staring at his ass as he emptied his waste basket while I jerked off beneath the thick oak. I knew he needed to clean out my basket next and it was between my feet, ready to catch my cum should he take too long. My hand worked furiously over my aching shaft as I watched him.

He drifted into the room and quietly asked me about the trash. I remember telling him to come get it. Much to my surprise, he did. He slipped around the desk and knelt on the floor beside the basket, his head still bowed as he asked if I'd like for him to wait for a minute to take it out.

When I didn't answer, he looked up at me for the first time in the history of his employment and I just couldn't take it. I had meant to draw it out, to seduce him. But in that instant, I knew he had to be mine; right then and there. I don't even remember the way I got him to do it, but I know it was something fancy and quick-witted.

Next thing I knew, his mouth was wrapped around my cock as I all but fucked his face. Tears streamed down his beautiful cheeks, but he didn't pull away. Then again, he couldn't with the grip I had on his long red hair. If he'd pulled away, he'd have ripped it out by the roots. For some reason, I enjoyed seeing him cry, but it wasn't enough. I wanted to see more of him. I was far too greedy for more of that pale expanse of skin.

So I did the logical thing and let his head go long enough to get up and yank him into an upright position, pinning him between myself and my desk. I recall his violently shaking form and his pitiful pleas for me to stop, to please let him go. He begged as I ripped his clothing off, fought with me and screamed for help to an empty building. I would have felt sorry for him if I were any other person.

It was when I tried to take my own pants off that he escaped me. But not too far, just around the edge of my desk, tripping over his pants and the bag of trash he'd pulled from his own desk. I didn't even touch him; he just fell through the plate glass window all by himself. It shattered and he ended up sprawled on the floor, bleeding everywhere, crying about how much he hurt and begging me to leave him alone as he tried to crawl across the floor.

Pathetic sight, I tell you. But also somehow insanely arousing. Crimson streaking his pale skin, his body defying his pleas, his cock half hard just from sucking me off. Maybe the fear got him off. I'll never know and I couldn't have cared less.

I took my chances with the glass, hitching my pants back up to protect my skin from the sharp edges before kneeling over him, pinning him down and taking what I wanted from him. He screamed like a bitch when I penetrated him, tried to kick me off while he strained himself into oblivion trying to get away from me. His voice kept begging for me to stop it, to show him some mercy. Instead, I jerked him off, using my body weight to keep him in his place.

It didn't take me long to finish, his tight heat just too much for me to take. I filled him with my cum before forcing him into orgasm as well. I took pleasure in the way he cried as he sprayed his load over his abdomen. He took no pleasure in it, I could tell. But that wasn't my problem. I never had been and never would be.

I just got up and zipped my pants, went back in my office and got my jacket and shut down my computer before leaving. What I hadn't realized was that at some point, he had stopped fighting me, just laying there and sobbing. There had been a reason, but I didn't find it out until the next morning when I came in to crime scene tape and a couple of cops dragging me away on charges of rape and murder.

In the end, some shard of glass had pushed up into him severing some nerves or something and rendering him unable to fight me. Over the course of the night, he'd bled out until he couldn't take the anguish anymore and then he'd cut his own femoral artery, effectively ending his own life.

I guess he couldn't come to terms with being paralyzed or with me having taken what I wanted. The courts, in any case, deemed it suicide and I was let off the hook about the rape because of the new contract. And, just like that, my life moves on.

A new secretary starts this afternoon. I wonder how this one will end up.

**The End**  



End file.
